


Puppy Dog

by Medeafic



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: M/M, brief mention of whips, puppyplay including bareback sex in (puppy) character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-31
Updated: 2011-03-31
Packaged: 2017-10-17 10:05:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/175672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medeafic/pseuds/Medeafic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zach is Chris's well-trained pet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Puppy Dog

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJer Chibinecco for the LJ Trek RPF Spring exchange. Thank you to Brilliant Beta Emmessann as always, to Zjofierose for reading, and to my friend S.

It’s dark when Chris gets back home, but he still has to take a moment and smile at his house. He’s only owned it for a few months, and every time he comes home, it makes him feel good, like his life is on-track. Things are working out. A house, a car in the garage, career taking off – and someone waiting for him.

He stops grinning at the door and opens it, drops his keys on the sideboard in the hallway, and pauses. There’s a whistle on the table, too. Chris picks it up, his cock stirring in his pants. He blows the whistle, once. No sound comes out, and he smiles again. Shrugs off his jacket and hangs it in the hall closet.

Zach is waiting in the kitchen dressed in loose sweats. He’s on his knees, head bowed and his leash between his teeth. He has leather mitts on his hands and is balancing on them delicately. He looks up as Chris saunters in, and whines.

But Chris ignores him, heads for the fridge and grabs a Coke. Zach makes a movement, starts to make his way over, and Chris snaps, “Stay.” He doesn’t look, but he can hear Zach shuffling back into position, and he smiles at the butter, closes the fridge door and turns around. Takes a long, long drink while he thinks about what he might like to do with his puppy tonight.

“You’re getting much better with your training. No one wants a dog jumping all over them as soon as they walk in the room, do they?”

Zach drops his head lower, but doesn’t say anything.

“We’ll go through your tricks and if you’re a good boy, you might get a special treat.” Chris comes close to him, threads his fingers through Zach’s hair, petting him. “Are you going to be a good boy?” He takes the leash from Zach’s mouth, and clips it to his collar.

By way of answer, Zach nudges his nose into Chris’s palm and gives his fingers a quick lick.

“Hey, buddy.  I missed you, too.  Let’s go change, and then we’ll get started. Heel.”

Zach follows him on hands and knees to the bedroom, and Chris slows his pace to make sure he can keep up. He’s much quicker than he used to be, but still not as fast as Chris would like.

“We’ll have to do some more heel training with you tomorrow,” Chris tells him when they reach the bedroom. “Use the nipple clamps, so you really feel it.”

Zach lets out a tiny whine, and Chris gives him an absent-minded pat, removes the leash. “You don’t get to championship quality without a little pain and sacrifice. Now take off your clothes.”

Zach pulls them off without standing up, his mitts making things even more difficult. But Chris just watches. Zach is struggling to take his yoga pants off over the soft knee pads he’s wearing underneath, but Chris is pleased to see them. When he bought them for Zach’ birthday, Zach had pouted a little, said they’d take him out of the fantasy. But Chris insisted, and later Zach admitted that they made things much more comfortable.  The leather paw-mitts, on the other hand, they've used since the beginning, and Zach has always loved them, loves the way they leave muddy paw-prints when he comes in from the garden. 

It’s time to dress himself, so Chris takes off the cargos he wore today and contemplates his wardrobe. Old blue jeans and a white tee should do fine. Sometimes he wears leather, but he’s not in the mood. Tonight, at least, he wants to be relaxed. Maybe tomorrow, he’ll pull on his leather pants and they can play Cruel Master and Whipped Cur, but right now he wants something affectionate. It’s been a long day.

“Good boy,” he says to Zach, who is naked and waiting patiently. Chris pulls out a drawer and looks at the collection of butt-plug tails. Each one has a different personality, and half the fun is watching Zach change according to the tail. He chooses one and shows it to Zach, who smiles. It’s a short, perky tail, cute even in its disembodied state, looking for all the world like a delighted puppy wagged it so hard it fell off.

“Nose down.”

Zach immediately touches his nose to the floor and raises his ass up in the air, ready to take the plug. He’s already lubed himself, but Chris adds more to the plug before pushing it in. He takes his time, teasing, stroking at Zach’s balls until Zach starts shaking. The tail starts shaking too, and Chris bites his lip at the sight, smirks. He gets up from the floor, telling Zach to _Stay_ again, and washes off his hands in the bathroom. When he comes back out, Zach hasn’t moved.

“Lovely. Now: display.”

Zach pushes up from the floor, arches his back and holds his head as straight as he can. Chris runs a hand down his proud back, neck to tail, and then checks his teeth. He likes the way it makes Zach flush pink across the nose – embarrassed but hot for it. Then it’s time to check Zach’s hands and knees, running his fingers through the hair on his forearms and legs. “All four paws seem to be in working order. Now how about…”

Zach starts trembling again as Chris runs a gentle hand over his cock. It grows hard in his palm, and Chris works him over for a few minutes, bends down to nose into his hair. “Good puppy,” he breathes, and Zach makes a strangled noise, bucks into Chris’s hand. He wants more, but that’s not what Chris has planned, not right now. “No,” he says sternly. “Be still.”

Zach’s little whimper is so dog-like that Chris makes a mental note to commend him on his acting later. He’s not usually very vocal; the one time he actually barked made Chris jump out of his skin, and he’s pretty sure Zach was just as surprised by it himself. He’s never barked like that since, although he makes cute snuffle noises and whines occasionally. Chris has plans to make him bark again sometime, but not tonight.

“Where’s your ball? Fetch your ball. Go on, fetch your ball!” Zach looks around eagerly, sniffs a little and wriggles under the bed. It’s a struggle for him to get back out – Chris thinks sympathetically that rubbing a hard-on over carpet is probably not a great feeling – but he does eventually, triumphant, with a soft ball between his teeth. He shakes his head, growling, and the ball tinkles.

“Drop it.” Zach crawls to Chris’s feet, drops the ball and back up a few paces, staring at it. When Chris leans down to pick it up, Zach strains forward a little, eyes trained unblinkingly on the toy. Chris throws it for him, three times, down the hallway, getting harder in his jeans each time he sees Zach’s ass, complete with tail, energetically bouncing down the corridor.

He pets Zach’s head and enthusiastically praises him. “But we gotta go eat now. Your owner is starving, and he had a tiring day.” Zach snuffles sympathetically. “Come on, boy. I bet you’re hungry too.”

Zach prances after him down the hall, back to the kitchen. “Fetch your dinner bowl,” Chris tells him, and Zach noses into a low cupboard, backs out of it again with a plastic bowl between his teeth. He drops it and pushes it with his nose towards Chris, who smiles and picks it up.

Neither of them have ever been so into it that they’ve tried more intense stuff – Zach, for example, goes to the bathroom as normal, and eats human food, because Chris told him he just didn’t think he could kiss a mouth that regularly ate dog food. Zach had laughed and agreed. He usually eats something from a can, though, to keep the fantasy alive. Chili today, Chris decides, and scrapes it out cold into his bowl. The bowl is blue and is decorated with cartoon bones. Around the outside, in big yellow letters, it says ZACHARY.

“You’ll have to wait for me, puppy dog,” he tells Zach, who is sitting up on his haunches and trying to sniff out what Chris has served him. “Won’t be long.” He’s got some cornbread in the freezer that his mom made a while ago, so he might as well have chili too. His is heated in the microwave, though, and he adds cheese and guacamole and sour cream.

Chris takes his own bowl to the kitchen table first, and an eager Zach follows his legs back and forth as though he’s saying, _don’t forget about me_.

“Here you go.” He sets Zach’s bowl on a sheet of newspaper next to his chair, and holds up a finger. “Stay. Not yet. Stay…stay…okay, release.” Zach dives for the bowl, and Chris smiles fondly at him. “You’re such a good boy, Zachary.”

After dinner, Chris cleans up Zach’s face, which is covered in sauce. He’s even managed to get some in his eyebrows, and squirms as Chris firmly rubs him down. “There we go. All clean again. You want your treat now, boy?”

Zach pants happily, and Chris feels a rush of tenderness for him. Chris had been hesitant about suggesting the whole thing in the beginning, but it’s not like Zach was any stranger to kinky stuff, and Chris has always been happy to oblige whatever _he_ asked for. But Zach has thrown himself into puppy play so completely that it feels like the most natural thing in the world these days. It’s like a dream come true for Chris. No _that’s too weird_ , or _what the fuck is wrong with you, Pine_ , like he’s heard before. Zach just considered, shrugged and said, “Yeah, that could be hot. You think you wanna muzzle me sometimes?” And Chris had almost torn Zach’s clothes in his rush to get them off and mouth into all that wonderful, silky body hair.

It was even Zach’s idea to use the whistle as a signal, to show he’s in that headspace and wants to play.

Chris knows he’s a lucky guy. Zach is amazing. He follows Chris obediently into the lounge and watches as Chris sits, stretches out his legs. Chris pets the dark head again, softly, and clicks his fingers. “Up.”

Zach clambers onto the sofa and lays his head in Chris’s lap. Chris reaches idly for the TV remote and flicks through until he finds some cooking show he knows Zach likes. “You can have your treat, now. You’ve been good today, Zachary.” He takes out a few small pieces of beef jerky he keeps in the side table drawer, and feeds them to Zach every so often. Zach licks his fingers clean after each piece, and settles happily after they’re gone.

“Time for bed,” Chris says at last, and Zach follows him closely down to the bedroom. “On the bed with me? Or on your rug?”

If he gets in the bed, it means they’ll follow in this gentle vein for the rest of the weekend. If he’s chained at the end of the bed, it’s a signal that Zach wants a rougher day tomorrow – hard training, punishments when he fails, and the humiliating muzzle in the shape of a dog’s snout.

It’s always Zach’s choice. Chris likes it both ways, and he prefers Zach to be able to have input. Zach tips his head to one side, and then slowly goes to the soft rug at the foot of the bed, gets into his display position.

“Good boy,” Chris breathes. “Oh, we’ll have some fun tomorrow.” Tomorrow he will whip Zach for small infractions, and clamp his nipples, leash them, to continue his heel training. He will stamp and shout and grab Zach by the hair, and God, maybe even make him pee outside like a real dog. But in the meantime, Chris wants to take care of his own cock, hard again at the thoughts of tomorrow. He picks up the light chain attached to the bedpost and clips it to Zach’s collar. “Nose down.”

Zach drops into position and waits patiently for Chris to remove the plug-tail. He’s nice and open, Chris notes, the muscle relaxed. He works a finger around it and Zach whines, pushes back at him. These moments used to feel weird for Chris; he’s pretty sure it was weird for Zach too, at least the first few times, the transition between play and sex. But Chris still loves to do it – loves to fuck his dog and make him come, choking back human words and trying to stay in his puppy space.

“This would be another treat, puppy dog, wouldn’t it? Maybe I’m spoiling you. But you have been very good tonight, it’s true. Such a good boy.” He pets Zach’s flank gently.

Zach groans and spreads his legs wider, offering himself up. And Chris – well, Chris is only human, after all.

He rubs lube over his dick haphazardly, doesn’t mess around. He wants to be in there as soon as possible, feeling the clench and the heat around his cock. He could swear sometimes that Zach is physically warmer when his in his puppy space. It sure feels like it tonight, pushing into that hot little hole, and Chris stills for a moment, waits for his balls to relax. He doesn’t want to rush this, and he wants Zach to come before he does. He needs easier access to Zach’s cock.

“Display.” Zach shifts, and there – Chris can grab at his cock now, jack him quickly. Zach makes a noise that’s almost a word, and stifles it into a growl. “Come on, puppy dog. I want you to come for me, fast as you can.”

It takes another few minutes of dedicated fucking before Zach is twisting underneath him, trying to get the right angle. Chris bends over him to help, and knows by Zach’s gasp when he finds the spot. He badly wants to come, but Zach has to go first. He loves to hear it. He bites down firmly at the back of Zach’s neck, the gentle curve between neck and shoulder, and snarls.

Zach chokes out something that suspiciously sounds like _Chris_ , and starts to shoot. Chris doesn’t remove his teeth until Zach is completely limp and whimpering as Chris pats at his over-sensitive cock. And then he can give in, drive forward into his own orgasm, empty himself inside Zach, inside his pup.

He has to roll over afterwards, flop out on the carpet wracked with pleasure. His knees are sore, and he eyes Zach’s kneepads for a moment. No. He’ll just have to put up with it. They can’t both be the dog, and besides, Zach makes such a beautiful one.

Zach is curled up on his rug, keeping away from the wet patch he made himself. Chris reaches out a hand to stroke his head. “You can sleep with me tonight. You made a mess of your own bed.”

Zach lifts his head, and Chris can practically see his ears twitching.

“Don’t worry; I’ll still be mean to you tomorrow. Display.” Zach smiles, content, and holds still in position while Chris takes off the mitts and pads, unclips the chain. He leaves the collar, though. Zach likes to sleep in it. He fetches a washcloth from the bathroom and wipes Zach down. When he’s satisfied, Chris says, “Up,” and pats the bed.

He gets in himself, and pulls Zach close. “Yeah, it was nice tonight. I liked that, I needed it. Relaxing. Just me and man’s best friend.” Zach wriggles his ass as though he’s wagging his tail, and Chris chuckles. “Nice tonight. But tomorrow I’m gonna make you howl.”


End file.
